


Just Say Goodnight and Go

by sweeterthankarma



Category: New Amsterdam (TV 2018)
Genre: Based on an Ariana Grande song, F/M, Introspection, Pining, Song fic, Unrequited Crush, or so Helen thinks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 14:52:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19297990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: It’s become relentless, the way that Helen finds herself drawn to Max. There’s no way she can be around him and not think about touching him, about kissing him, especially when he stands so close and smells like that, like soap and aftershave and sweetness and something that can only be described as him. And he’s spent the entire day around sick patients and medicine and fluid bags, so he definitely shouldn’t smell good and Helen definitely shouldn’t be noticing how good he smells, but therein lies the problem.Based on "Goodnight and Go" by Ariana Grande.





	Just Say Goodnight and Go

_Tell me why you gotta look at me that way_

_You know what it does to me, so baby, what you tryna say?_

 

The longer Helen looks at Max, the more she looks at _him,_ and it’s kind of a dangerous thing to do because he’s overwhelming in nearly every sense. His searching eyes, his hopeful smile and the dimples that come along with it, his pursed, waiting lips when he’s thinking or working or just looking at her— it all becomes too much sometimes, especially on days when Helen has spent more time by his side than not (which is pretty much every day.)

She’s eternally caught up in him and it’s nothing new, really, though it’s a hopeless, vicious cycle that’s gone on for far too long in her professional opinion. Max is impossible to ignore, easy to love, and he’s become far more than just her co-worker and mentor; he’s become her best friend, the first thought in her mind when she wakes and the last one before she sleeps, whether she wants him to be or not. And she tries not to think of him, she really does, especially when her mind wanders in directions she doesn’t want it to go, but Max is on her brain no matter what.

It’s bad. She’ll get a cup of coffee and find herself wondering if Max would like the newest flavor that they’re trying out exclusively at the Starbucks on her street corner— and up in Harlem too, but it’s not like they’d ever be there together because they’re just coworkers, that’s it. Though of course they’re friends too, and of course Helen holds onto that lone piece of knowledge and hope far too often in the dark hours of the night, even when it opens up plenty of loopholes and potential for more, the exact kind of thing she doesn’t want to allow herself to entertain.

 

_I got you, I got you dreamin’_

_Play with your mind for no reason_

 

If she’s being honest, though, she’s already entertaining too many scenarios to begin with. When the new barista messes up her order and spills it on her while in the process of correcting it, Helen stands alone and wipes at her ruined shirt while wondering how Max would react if he was next to her. She’s already running late so she really has no right to be fantasizing, but in her defense it’s almost Valentine’s Day and it feels like couples are everywhere she looks, shoving their domesticity and affection right in her face as she just tries to get through her day.

So she makes excuses and lets herself wonder. She wonders if Max would rush her if he were beside her, adding irritation and tension to an already stressful scenario (like all her exes had the tendency to do). She wonders if he’d do the opposite, if he’d rub her back and tell her not to worry, assuring her that New Amsterdam can wait for her to run back home and put on a different blouse— even though it kind of, realistically, can’t.

Helen knows Max well enough to know that the latter is true, that he’d want to soothe her worries whenever they arose, and the worst part of it all is that Helen is almost entirely certain that he’d be successful in doing so. And that’s a big thing in and of itself because no one’s ever really been able to calm her restless mind, the way that she spirals and overthinks and digs herself into holes that are oh so hard to pull herself out of.

At the convenience store, Helen wonders if Max chews gum, and if he goes for the fruity or minty flavors or even those over the top mixtures that only little kids seem to enjoy, like raspberry watermelon or birthday cake. And then she starts wondering what his favorite kind of birthday cake is, if he likes Magnolia Bakery as much as she does and if he thinks the chocolate icing is the best too, and then she wonders what he likes to do to celebrate birthdays, what they could do together to celebrate birthdays. Her imagination runs persistently wild with scenarios, so much so that Helen wishes she could simply turn her brain off.

It’s become relentless, the way that she finds herself drawn to Max, and the way that he invites her in doesn’t help either. There’s no way she can be around him and not think about touching him, about kissing him, especially when he stands so close and smells like that, like soap and aftershave and sweetness and something that can only be described as him. And he’s spent the entire day around sick patients and medicine and fluid bags, so he definitely shouldn’t smell good and Helen definitely shouldn’t be noticing how good he smells, but therein lies the problem: once she realizes she likes him no matter what and once she entertains the thought of being something more than just a friend to him, she finds that she really, really wants that. Like, _really._ But she doesn’t dare even think about doing anything about it, because there’s so many reasons why she shouldn’t, why she can’t, why _they_ can’t be anything more than they already are.

 

_Why’d you have to be so cute?_

_It’s impossible to ignore you_

 

She tries not to give herself the luxury of imagining it but she always fails. She tries to think about him a little less than the day before and she tries to let that be enough, but it never is.

It’s impossible for her mind not to spiral, to fill to the brim with false hope nearly every day, to the point where she almost accepts defeat. She’ll dream about him and wake up wondering if he ever does the same about her, and in the brief moments as she lays there, half awake with her sensibility hovering over her conscious, she believes that he does. It’s a beautiful thought.

When her rationality returns, she reminds herself that she doesn’t have the slightest idea about what Max feels. Sometimes she thinks she knows, she thinks she sees his friendly affection capped (in the way it should be), platonic and easy and natural. But then sometimes his eyes will linger and he’ll stand so close their hands brush and Helen is left reeling all over again.

 

_Why must you make me laugh so much?_

_It’s bad enough we get along so well_

_Just say goodnight and go_

 

So, in those moments, Helen does the only logical thing and follows the same choice that she makes nearly every day, even when it makes her chest ache and her eyes sting and her bones sigh in disappointment. She answers any and every question Max throws at her with simplicity and cordiality. She tries to stay professional, to keep her words level and meaningless; she challenges herself to answer him in a practiced, medical sense regardless of whether he had asked a medical inquiry to begin with. Then Helen does the next logical thing, the one she hates the most: she walks away.

She despises every second of doing so, but she’s gotten pretty good at it, even when Max gives her those eyes or that pout or says something sentimental or even suggestive. She walks like her heart isn’t both pounding and breaking in her chest, and then she goes home feeling bored and alone and like she’s made a terrible mistake for the millionth day in a row. But what other option does she have?

     _Say goodnight and go,_ she tells herself and over, like it’s her mantra. _Just say goodnight and go._

And so she does.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please let me know! Comments and kudos make my day. :) 
> 
> Usually when I write song fics I use the whole song as inspiration for the entire piece, but this was a bit of a backwards process. I started writing only to realize towards the end of editing that "Goodnight and Go" was the perfect song for it. If anyone is interested in a continuation with the second verse ("one of these days, you'll miss your train, and come stay with me / we'll have drinks and talk about things, and any excuse to stay awake with you / and you'd sleep here, I'd sleep there / but then the heating may be down again, at my convenience / we'd be good, we'd be great together") let me know, as I'm already brainstorming it!
> 
> Come say hi (or send me other fic requests) on my Tumblr blog under the same username, sweeterthankarma!


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